


Adrift

by 3D_Star



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3D_Star/pseuds/3D_Star
Summary: Amon is many things. An archer, an adventurer but most of all he is the Warrior of Light, a title that is heavy to carry and difficult to understand. Travelling the world and beyond, meeting new people, will Amon learn the truth of his existence?
Kudos: 1





	1. Introduction

The sun was high up on the sky. Rays of sunlight shone down on the lake below, making its water glitter like diamonds. Amon let out a content sigh as he enjoyed the sun warming his face. It was finally over. Gaius van Baelsar was defeated and Amon had to toil no more, at least for the moment. Everyone had gathered by Silvertear Lake to celebrate the occasion. People from all the Grand Companies including the three great city states’ leaders attended the occasion. The feeling of joy and relief could be felt among the crowd.   
Amon let his eyes drift shut only for a moment. The last couple of months had been tedious. Never a time to sit down and contemplate. It was quite the difference from his days as a scout in the Black Shroud. There among the treetops he could sit for hours and enjoy the quiet rustle of the leaves. 

Amon heard a chuckle and turned to look at Thancred who was resting next to him.  
“Tired?” Thancred asked.  
“A little. It has been… a lot. It feels like I have finished an important chapter of my life. Yet…” Amon trailed off.  
“Yet you don’t feel it is over?”   
Amon nodded. “Indeed it feels like it is only the beginning of something greater. The Ascians worry me, especially Lahabrea. I don’t think we have seen the last of him.”   
To the untrained eye one would not see Thancred flinch at the mention of Lahabrea, but Amon could see how tense Thancred was. He wondered if Thancred remembers anything from the time when he was possessed by Lahabrea. He almost wanted to ask but refrained from doing so. That wound was too fresh. Perhaps he could ask Thancred in the future, far into the future. 

The sound of joyous celebration was suddenly interrupted by a horrible shriek that rattled everyone to their core. Amon by reflex grabbed his bow and stood up, searching frantically for the source of the shriek. As the concerned murmurs among the crowd rose in volume a guard came running down the hill shouting.  
“It is a primal! A monsterous primal has been awakened!”   
Amon started to gather his things in a hurry before he was stopped by a hand in front of him. Urianger looked down upon him with an unreadable expression.   
“Thou shouldst knoweth thy foe ere thou attack”  
“He is right, Amon. We need to know what we are dealing with first.” Minfilia added as she headed towards the masses to calm them.  
Amon lowered his bow in defeat. Taking a deep breath, he felt how fast his heart was beating, like his heart was ready to leap right out of his chest. There was something terrifyingly familiar with that shriek. It was as if a thought or memory was trying to burst forth from his mind but something stopped it.

Thancred despite his weakened state rose from his position, sensing Amon’s discomfort.  
“Well it seems the festivities are being cancelled. No wonder, that shriek is enough to give me nightmares.” Thancred joked, clearly trying to ease the tension.   
Amon shook his head. “It would just be our luck wouldn’t it? Never a moment's rest. I am going to go and help the others reassure the masses.”  
“The Warrior of Light coming to the rescue once again” Thancred chuckled as Amon rolled his eyes.  
“This Warrior of Light will now go and make sure everyone gets home safe” Amon spoke in a sarcastic voice and did an overly dramatic bow before turning to leave. 

As the grand companies made their way home with the reassurance that the Scions would investigate the rumor of a primal, Amon approached Minfilia.   
“I do not want to be a bother, Minfilia, but I was wondering what is the plan? We can’t let whatever this is go unchecked for long” He shuffled his feet, a nervous tic that he never quite got rid of.   
“We shall return to the Waking Sands. From there we will continue our investigation on our mysterious primal.” Minfilia touched Amon’s shoulder reassuringly. Her eyes showed patience and kindness, something Amon was slightly unused to before meeting her. Growing up as an Ala Mhigan refugee in Gridania had hardened him. Kindness was something you earned. It was not something given out freely. Sometimes Amon wondered if Minfilia was only kind to him because they both were Ala Mhigan refugees, but everyone around him assured him it wasn’t so.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins... with moogles

Gridania was a considerably calm place considering it was one of the great city states. Its history with the Elementals had shaped its people to be wary and shun conflict. Amon wasn’t from Gridania originally. His mother was a Gridanian merchant who married an Ala Mhigan smith. When Amon was only seven years old he was forced to flee from Ala Mhigo to live with his grandparents in Gridania. Amon barely remembered the ritual he partook in, but apparently the Elementals had accepted him, much to his grandparents’ relief. 

Amon had always had a hate-love relationship with the city. It was home to both prejudice and welcomes. Despite being accepted by the forest itself the people within the city always questioned his authenticity. They made sure Amon never forgot that he was Ala Mhigan first and foremost. Eventually it became like a background noise to him, something that just was. It didn’t stop him from becoming a scout, just made the journey there a lot more difficult. Amon couldn’t help but feel a little strange when he suddenly was showered with praise from the people of Gridania. They didn’t see him as a foreigner anymore. They only saw him as the new Warrior of Light, a hero, someone to fix all their problems.

One of those problems was apparently moogles. Amon wanted to stay with the others in the Waking Sands, but duty had called him back to his hometown. The city’s luscious greenery and shapely wooden buildings always made Amon feel serene. Despite what anyone would say this was home to him. Amon ambled onwards. He listened to the sound of rippling water from the many streams that ran through Gridania. It grounded him. Despite coming from sand covered lands he loved this city and the forest surrounding it with an intense passion. As he took in the scenery he slowly made his way towards the Lotus Stand. Some familiar faces waved to him but did not stop him, thankfully. 

Amon walked down the winding path. The Lotus Stand was as beautiful as ever. Amon had only been allowed in a few couple of times. Most of them after he became an envoy for Gridania. Yda and Papalymo were already there discussing the upcoming task with Kan-E-Senna and an unknown moogle. As Amon approached, the moogle quickly turned and started to rant frantically at him.   
“Forgive them, kupo! They did not mean it. They did not know what they were doing, kupo!” Amon blinked repeatedly at the panicking moogle before turning to look at both Yda and Papalymo with a questioning stare. They both shrugged.   
“Calm down, Kuplo Kopp, he does not know the situation.” Kan-E-Senna spoke with her usual serene voice. The moogle quickly reeled in his frenzy but the moogle still continued to flap his wings nervously.

As they spoke about King Moggle Mog XII, Amon could not help but feel it sounded all too familiar. He might not be a scholar but he wasn’t stupid. Could one perform a summoning of a primal even if it wasn’t a god?   
“May I be so rude to interrupt, Elder Seedseer?” Amon bowed towards Kan-E-Senna in respect. Yda and Papalymo looked at Amon with curious faces as Kan-E-Senna gave him permission to speak.   
“This might sound stupid to you who are much more educated in the ways of magic, but… could it be that this King Moggle Mog XII is actually a primal? I mean, it sounds like Kuplo Kopp’s brethren have been tempered and in the way that King Moggle Mog XII just showed up out of nowhere, that he was summoned. It is a crazy idea, I know, but there is a possibility, right?” Amon shuffled his feet nervously.  
The others just blinked as the realization of what Amon had just said sunk in. Papalymo furrowed his brows in deep thought.  
“It is not an impossibility, but we will not know until we have been able to collect the correct data.” Papalymo explained.  
Amon nodded. “Which I am the most suited for… which is also why I am here. As it might be a primal, it might be best that I face this King Moggle Mog XII alone.”   
Everyone nodded in agreement except Yda who hung her head in defeat. “Awww, and here I thought I could come with you.”   
“Maybe next time” Amon chuckled.

The track through the Black Shroud was interrupted by several creatures but nothing Amon couldn’t handle. He knew these woods like the back of his hand. He did not become a scout for nothing. As a scout you always had to be more aware of your surroundings than the enemy. Even though the forest took care of most intruders by its own it sometimes needed a little help, and if that wasn’t the case it was always wise to be a step ahead so that the people of Gridania wouldn’t face the Greenwrath because of some foreign power. Amon always pondered over the balance of the forest. Was it right to kill the creatures living in it sometimes or would that bring the wrath of the Elementals upon him? There was always talk about Woodsin among the people of Gridania. It was like a cautionary tale. 

As they approached the glade Amon could feel the shift in the air. It was something he connected with the Echo, a feeling that told of the coming of a primal.   
“Stay here.” He ordered Kuplo Kopp.   
“You do not have to tell me twice, kupo!” The moogle twirled in the air.  
Amon secured his long red hair in a ponytail and stalked forward with bow in hand. There were many times he had considered cutting off his hair as the red color of it made it difficult to blend in with the green and brown colors of the forest. Somehow he could not bring himself to do it. It was the one thing that he felt he had left of his mother. Her hair was equally as red as Amon’s if not more. Despite losing her when he was only seven years old he still missed her, every day of every year. 

Amon shook his head. Now was not the time to reminisce about old memories. He did not know what he expected when he entered the moogles domain but it wasn’t several moogles dancing around a huge moogle with a crown. Amon blinked a few times, his mouth open in disbelief. He guessed he should have known that anything relating to moogles would be at least a little silly.   
Suddenly colorful lights started to flicker all around the glade. All the moogles including the big one turned towards Amon. Well, guess he could not go undetected for too long.   
“I am good King Moggle Mog the XII and you are intruding upon my kingdom, kupo! Fellow moogles, attack!” 

The battle raged or well bounced as one moogle after the other hit the ground. Amon struck true with his arrows, almost dancing across the battlefield. He tried to avoid killing the moogles but could not stop them from getting hurt if he was to come out of this unscathed. When the last moogle hit the ground, Amon turned his full attention to the moogle king. The moogle king was large in size but clumsy which meant Amon would have an advantage if he just made sure to keep his distance. As the king prepared to swing, Amon raised his bow and fired an arrow right into the moogle king’s chest. For a moment Amon thought he might have been wrong, that his theory was incorrect. However with a little delay the Good King Moogle Mog XII burst into tiny sparkles of aether. As with any destroyed primal the aether rained down upon the ground only to fade away until there was nothing left. 

Amon dusted himself off and checked if he had any injuries. Thankfully he had remained unharmed. A good archer keeps his distance. They do not get close and personal, even though that could be fun occasionally Amon thought to himself and chuckled. The track back to Gridania was done in silence on Amon’s part. The same can’t be said for the moogle Kuplo Kopp. Amon drowned out their continuous chatter as he took in the scenery. The large tree crowns created a beautiful light spectacle as the sun shone through them. Somewhere in the distance the sound of a rippling stream could be heard. The song of birds and the buzzing of flies indicated that everything was as it should be. The forest was at peace. 

As Amon approached the Lotus Stand once again he was greeted by Kan-E-Senna and her entourage. Papalymo and Yda were also there. Yda waved enthusiastically and Amon gave a nod back in greeting. “King Moogle Mog XII has been defeated. Before any discussion might take place I just wanted to add that King Moogle Mog XII’s aether dispersed, as in he did not have a body in the traditional sense.” Amon explained as he placed himself at Yda’s and Papalymo’s side.   
“Hm, it would seem your theory might bear some weight, Amon. I will have to look into this further.” Papalymo contemplated.   
“We will have to look into this” Yda interjected. Both Yda and Papalymo glared at eachother but everyone knew it was never serious.   
“Thank you, Amon, for taking care of this situation. As always me and Gridania’s people are thankful.” Kan-E-Senna bowed slightly and gave Amon one of her signature warm smiles. Amon bowed quickly in return, almost falling over. 

At the behest of Minfilia, Amon returned reluctantly to the Waking Sands after the meeting at the Lotus Stand was done. Once inside he noticed how busy the place was. People of all kinds were running back and forth, collecting boxes and moving furniture. Amon almost got run over by an elezen carrying a big wooden box. The place was busy and it piqued his curiosity. 

Amon approached the wooden door to the inner sanctum and gave a polite but sturdy knock. “Come in!” A sprightly voice was heard from within.   
Amon entered carefully only to see that everyone except Yda and Papalymo had gathered around Minfilia’s desk. He looked at everyone with curious eyes.  
“What is the occasion? Why are there so many people moving about outside?” Amon asked as he laid down his bow and quiver by the door.  
“We are finally moving to the Rising Stones in Revenant’s Toll! Alphinaud really knows how to make use of his connections” Minfilia clasped her hands in excitement.   
“The Rising Stones? It sounds possibly poetic. Do you have anything to do with the name choice, Urianger?” Thancred looked at Urianger with amusement as Urianger gave him an affirming grin.   
Amon couldn’t help but smile. “That is wonderful news. I bring good news too. The problems in Gridania have been dealt with. Yda and Papalymo will handle the rest.” He explained. Despite the good mood, Amon couldn’t help but want to ask about the shriek they heard earlier in Mor Dhona, however he managed to reel himself in. No reason to ruin the mood. 

As the meeting was winding down and everyone was making themselves ready to move towards Mor Dhona, Urianger gestured for Amon to follow him. Amon raised an eyebrow but followed him non the less. What could he want?  
Urianger led him to stand behind a bunch of boxes that had yet to be moved.  
“You wanted to talk to me about something?” He asked Urianger in a low voice.   
Urianger looked around so no one was listening.   
“I may hast hath found where the source of the shriek cameth from”   
Amon’s expression quickly changed from confused to serious. “And…?” He tried to urge Urianger to continue.  
“I wouldst liketh thee to meeteth an acquaintance of mineth who can telleth thou more. Mine own acquaintance wouldst liketh to remaineth anonymous until thee meeteth.” Urianger spoke, mysterious as ever.   
Amon tried to not let his wariness show but it was proving difficult, however he did not believe that Urianger would trick him. He had no reason to.  
“So where do I meet this acquaintance of yours?”  
“At Wineport, tomorrow noon, if it be true thee shall concur” Urianger spoke in what could only be described as Urianger’s version of a hopeful voice.  
Amon gave him one of his signature nods in agreement.


End file.
